


Not Now

by orphan_account



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Abduction, Friendship, Government Agencies, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, all the feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-04 09:31:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10273817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Not now,” he said, feeling an overwhelming pulse of helplessness. It wasn’t fair. He had friends, people who actually cared for him. For the first time in his life he didn't feel alone. Why did it have to be now?**This is pretty much canon until we reach the end of season 1, at which point we've gone AU baby!**





	1. My name is Dirk

**Author's Note:**

> Omg I've started another story. But who can blame me when Dirk is just so squishy!

The urge to act struck without warning. It was a familiar and irresistible pull to action that forced him to his feet. He stepped out from behind the table and was about to walk off when he realised Farah was staring at him. “Excuse me, just for a moment,” he said, aware he was acting even stranger than usual but unable to offer a sensible explanation why. He needed to leave and even though he didn’t know why, he never knew why, it was vitally important he went alone.

As he left the diner the pull grew stronger, causing his heart to beat wildly in his chest. He was afraid, he realised and at that moment he wanted more than anything to turn back. He wanted to find his friends and start a new life when them. _He wanted to start his life_.

A leaflet caught his eye, skimming across the floor as a light breeze pushed it towards his foot. He automatically bent down and picked it up, feeling a desperate sense of dread when he saw a picture of Lux DuJour and the words _we'll never let you go_ plastered across its front.

The pull urged him to turn his head. He did so slowly, feeling a deep sense of dread. He instantly recognised the young agent that attached him outside Tod's apartment. An alarm went off in his head and he just knew he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Fate had done its job once again and now it would leave Dirk to deal with the consequences.

“Not now,” he said, feeling an overwhelming pulse of helplessness. It wasn’t fair. He had friends, people who actually cared for him. For the first time in his life he didn't feel alone. Why did they have to come back for him now?

The agent pushed away from the wall he was leaning against, smiling brightly as he stepped forward. He was very big. The detective recalled their brief scuffle, if it could even be called that. Dirk wasn't a fighter. He wouldn't stand a chance. But then he supposed he wasn’t supposed to get away.

  
“We had this whole mission planned to pick you up,” the agent said, his smile bright in his stupidly handsome face. “But here you are. It’s almost too easy”

“I can leave if you prefer?” Dirk asked, bright and smiley as he ignored his pounding heart and pointed back the way he came. “You know, give you a good chase and all that.”

“Nice try,” the agent said, stepping closer. When Dirk scooted back the bright smile finally faded. “Come here.”

“Where precisely is Riggins?” Dirk asked a little desperately. The moment the words left his mouth he could have cursed himself, but damnit he needed the old liars help. Where was he when Dirk actually needed?

“Gone,” the agent snapped, striding rapidly forward. Clearly he’d has enough of talky time and wanted to get down to action. Dirk couldn’t exactly relate.

He fell back, instinctively throwing his arms over his head to cover his face. He released a bitten off yelp as his bicep was grabbed and he was suddenly being dragged. An elderly black man was watching them and Dirk almost called out for help, but sometimes told him involving the old man wouldn’t work out well for either of them. He bit his lip and kept his mouth closed.

“I have project Icarus,” the ape said into his com. The word Icarus echoed around Dirk’s head. The boy who flew too close to the sun. The agent's hand tightened painfully around his arm even though he wasn’t struggling. “Send a pickup to the corner of sixth and new street.”

“Understood Sergeant Friedkin ,” the reply on the other end said crisply. Dirk could practically feel the agents pleasure at the title. “We’re on our way.”

“If only they were all as easy as you,” Friedkin said, the smile back in place as his free hand fisted into Dirk’s hair.

“You’re bringing everyone back in?” He asked, stumbling and trying not to cry out as the agent shook his arm. An arm that was attached to a very recently, twice stabbed, shoulder.

“You talk too much,” the ape grumbled. “Just stay calm, don’t resist, keep quiet and you won’t get hurt.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me I speak too much. I think it probably gets worse when I'm frightened though. I'm quite frightened now for instance. I don't want to go back to the facility,” his voice cracked, entirely against his will. It would be embarrassing if he wasn’t so completely terrified. “Please, where is Higgins?”

The grip on his arm was bruising. He could tell the agent was only barely resisting the urge to hit him. “It doesn't concern you,” Friedkin said between gritted teeth.

“My friends are going to look for me,” he was desperate and the words were as much for his own benefit as the agents, but it gave him strength. He wasn’t alone. “They won't -”

“They're not here now, are they?" Friedkin mocked, boastful and smug. “You're on your own.”

Because the universe told him to go out alone. It didn't want his friends to get hurt. Surely that meant something?

A black van pulled up in front of them. Dirk couldn't help but struggle when he felt the agent's arms wrap around his waist. He was hoisted inside and the doors closed behind them with a resounding thud. Dirk was manhandled onto the floor and made to lie down. When he tried to sit up the agent raised his fist threateningly. Dirk stared at him for a short moment before very slowly lying back down.

He realised rather numbly that his arm felt hot and noticed he was bleeding. He very much disliked the sight of blood, especially his own. It was a stark reminder that he wasn’t running at full capacity. “Where is Riggins?” He asked again, almost without thinking. The man had lied to him, over and over again, but as least he was familiar. Whenever Dirk had dealings with the the facility Riggins was always there. Going it alone terrified him.

“Your attachment to him is the exact reason he isn’t here,” the agent snapped, splaying out and setting one foot very close to Dirk’s head. He nudged him with petty glee. “Now shut up. Try to go to sleep or something.”

Dirk really was reaching the limit of his temper. “It's 11:30 in the morning and I've just been kidnapped. I’m not about to take a nap,” he snapped peevishly.

Silence. He looked up and immediately curled into himself when he saw the furious look on the other man's face. The bloody simpleton clearly understood he had been insulted but lacked the IQ to respond in kind. Dirk had some experience in dealing with his sort and knew that anger could easily bleed into violence. He didn't do well with violence, despite how often it seemed to find him. He didn't want to be hurt.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, trying to sound as British and as harmless as humanly possible. It sometimes did the trick. “I’ll be quiet.”

It appeared to work. Friedkin snorted at him but the murderous expression melted away. He sat back, a superior smirk on his face as he placed his hands behind his head and positively preened. “I’m told you're one of the special ones." 

  
Dirk looked up at him briefly before resting his chin in his hands. He wished the agent would let him sit up. He knew it was a power play, another way to intimidate. Really though, they didn't need to bother. He was already terrified.

“You don't look so special to me,” he continued. “What do you do?”

  
A direct question. Was he supposed to answer or just keep shutting up? He felt as confused as the agent looked. He briefly considered telling him so but decided against it. He liked his teeth where they were. “I’m really not very special at all. Perfectly ordinary actually. May I go?”

“You’re lying,” the agent snapped. He knelt down next to Dirk, looming over him. One of his hands latched onto the detective's neck and squeezed in warning. “I don’t like lying project Icarus. It pisses me off.” his grip tightened painfully. “Do you know, the only order I have about bringing in you freaks is that I can't kill any of you,” Dirk was suddenly flipped onto his back. He saw the gun in the agent's hand and felt a small whimper work its way out of his throat. “Anything else but no killing.”

“Oh Christ,” Dirk whispered, cringing away. “Please, I’m not resisting. I'm doing everything you tell me to. You don’t have to do this.”

“If you're so special why don't you just stop me?” he jeered as the gun moved just below Dirk's wounded shoulder. “Come on, stop me. Let's see it psychic boy. Stop me. Stop me!”

Dirk was suddenly sliding across the floor and into a van wall. Luckily it didn't hurt too much because Friedkin kindly cushioned the impact with his body. Dirk crawled away from him, pleasantly surprised to see he looked mostly knocked out. “Serves you right,” he muttered. He debated kicking him for good measure but valiantly resisted the urge. He made his wobbly way towards the van doors when they were abruptly pulled open. Half a dozen agents had their guns trained on him. Dirk threw his hands up in surrender, staying very still as the agents looked him and the knocked out agent over carefully.

“Did you do that?” A dark haired lady asked, gesturing to Friedkin’s unconscious body. She was tall and thin, early forties by the look of her.

“Definitely not. The car just sort of stopped and we were flung against its side. I think he hit his head. I mean I’d be lying if I said I was sorry he was knocked out but -”

“Fucking deer totalled the van,” another agent interrupted, stepping into sight with a sour expression. “We’re going to have to transfer him.”

The woman reached out and grabbed his wrist. Dirk expected to be dragged out but she just tugged on his arm and waited for him to step out next to her. “He’ll drive with us. Somebody grab the Sargent."

“Do you know where Riggins is?” Dirk asked her, hurrying to keep up with her quick steps. Her grip on his arm wasn't nearly as tight as Friedkin’s but it was firm enough to let him know breaking free wouldn't be easy.

She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Hush up.”

“Right, it's just that no one's really told me what's going on. It's all a bit disturbing. The not knowing and all. Do you know what's happening?” She opened the door to an SUV and pushed him into the back seat. A large man, bald, in his fifties with the sort of shoulders a rugby player would be envious of was already inside. He looked a little surprised to see Dirk sitting there.

“Hello,” Dirk said, trying to sound bright even though he felt rather drained and unhappy. He wondered if Todd and Farah had noticed his disappearance yet. He hoped they didn’t think he’d just abandoned them.

“Sampson, why the Jesus fuck is he unrestrained?”

The woman slipped into the seat next to him and closed the door. It wasn't a great feeling, being wedged between them. “You've read his file. He’s been given a zero rating for violence. He hasn't resisted.”

“He's dangerous. They're all dangerous. He should be restrained.”

The woman shrugged and fished out a pair of handcuffs. Dirk spared them a miserable look and drew his hands under his armpits.

“Project Icarus, please put your arms out in front on you.”

“Behind his back,” the big man huffed. The car began to move.

“He's injured.”

Dirk released a small gasp as his jacket was grabbed and he was hoisted over the big man's lap. His arms were twisted painfully behind his back and the handcuffs were slapped on both wrists before he was rightened and pressed back into place.

It hurt. So much infact that his eyes appeared to be watering. He shifted miserably and the man grabbed his knee. “Stay still.”

“Right, I mean I would but it actually hurts quite a bit,” he shifted again and couldn't quite contain a whimper when the agent's arm pressed across his windpipe.

“Stay still.”

Dirk nodded his head as best he could and the man released him. He tried not to fidget but he wasn't very good at staying still. Neither of the agents were speaking. There was another man in the front seat. He didn't look happy either.

Dirk stayed quiet for a long time. So long in fact that they both jumped when he next spoke.

“Please, I don't want to go back,” he looked at the woman and realised somewhat blatantly that he was crying. It was all quite mortifying but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “I haven't done anything wrong. I haven't hurt anyone. Please -”

“Be quiet project Icarus,” the woman said, both soothing and stern.

“My name is Dirk. Dirk Gently. I’m not -”

He didn't get to finish. The male agent forced a piece of cloth into his mouth and pulled him close. “Last warning. Shut up. Otherwise we'll pull this car over and you will be sedated.”

Dirk could feel his whole body shake. He drew back when the other men released him, trying to gain some semblance of his pride. He missed his friends.


	2. The Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, what'd ya think so far?

They removed the cuffs and put him in a small room with white walls, white sheets and a white set of robes. A woman entered in a white lab coat and asked him to remove his shirt. He hesitated, unhappy with the prospect of undressing in front of a stranger but quickly relenting when she threatened to have someone do it for him. She inspected his shoulder, cleaning and wrapping it in a fresh bandage before passing him a bottle of water and leaving.

Dirk felt like he might start crying again but pulled himself together enough to stand up and explore the bathroom. It was small and, shockingly enough, white. Dirk cleaned his face with some water and then picked his shirt up off the bed. It was sticky with blood and sweat. He placed it back down and decided to wrap the bedsheet around his shoulders instead.

He was beginning to doze off when he jerked upright, aware he was being watched. He realised with a start that it was Friedkin. He instinctively backed away until his back smacked up against the headboard. He pulled his knees to his chest and tried to look as small and harmless as possible.

“You did this,” the agent hissed, pointing to his bruised forehead.

“I didn’t,” Dirk said, curling further into himself. “The van hit a deer. It had nothing to do with me. I’m not the bloody deer whisperer.”

The agent pulled out his gun again. Dirk felt his blood turn to ice. He heard a loud bang and released an entirely manly and not at all shrill scream. It took him a moment to realise he wasn't hurt. He looked up from his crossed arms and realised the other man was even closer, his face only inches from Dirk’s.

“I get hurt again and I’ll blow out your kneecaps,” he reached out and grabbed the detective's hair, forcing his head back and thrusting the gun under his jaw. “You hear me project Icarus?”

“Yes, yes of course,” he gasped, trying to remain calm. He was close to having a panic attack. He hoped it could be forgiven. He'd had quite the day after all. He tried to remind himself that he’d had numerous guns fired at him recently. One more shouldn’t shake him up so much.

The man released him with a shove. Dirk didn't move until he was sure Friedkin had left the room and then very carefully uncurled his shaky limbs and stood up. He tested the door and felt a spike of surprise when he realised it was unlocked.

“Hello,” he whispered. A pen lay on the floor, wedged between the frame and door. Dirk bent down to pick it up, smiling as he slid it into his trouser pocket. He rushed back to the bed and grabbed his jacket before very cautiously stepping out of the room and into a white washed, glistening hallway.

Dirk despised white. Why did the government agents have against a bit of colour? A splash of blue or yellow never killed anyone.

He heard screaming ahead. A woman was yelling at the top of her lungs, screaming threats and a number of rather vulgar profanities. Dirk tried to slip past unnoticed but her cage was made of glass and the moment he moved into view her eyes locked onto him.

“Not you,” he gasped, pushing away from the glass when he realised it was the woman that kept unsuccessfully trying to kill him.

“Hey Dirk,” she said, sauntering towards him with her head cocked thoughtfully to the side. Her face was a mess of bruises and scrapes. “They got you too huh?”

“They’re after all of us,” Dirk said, eying her warily. “Do you know if they’ve managed to grab anyone else?”

“Don't know anyone else, at least not by name.” Her hand pressed again the glass. “Let me out.”

He snorted. “So you can try to kill me again? I don't think so.”

She rolled her eyes like he was being unreasonable. “Universe won't let me kill you, or haven't you noticed?”

“The universe might change its mind. I'd really rather not take the risk. I'm already in enough trouble.”

“So you just gonna abandon me? I saved your life a few days ago. Did you forget already?”

“Only because your bloody gun kept missing," he said, aware he was sounding shrill again.

Her head turned to other side before a disturbing smile spread over her lips. “Let me out Dirk.”

He stared at her for a long moment before throwing his arms in the air in disgust. He approached the door and felt his stomach drop. “It's a combination lock.”

“A what?”

“A lock that only opens if you put in the right numbers.”

She practically pressed her face against the glass as she tried to see the lock. “So put some numbers in.”

Dirk felt his eyes roll. “There are countless combinations. There isn't any way i’ll be able to figure it out.” He started to input numbers randomly as he spoke. He hit enter and the lock made a whirring noise before the door sprang open. “I did it," he exclaimed excitedly, his enthusiasm turning to terror when the significance of his actions actually dawned on him. She was free. "Shit."

  
She stepped through the door and Dirk instinctively backed away. She followed him until his back smacked into a wall and to his horror she put her hand in his pocket.

“Get off,” he hissed, recoiling as she pulled her hand free and drew out the pen. She gripped it like it was a knife. “Not again,” he moaned, raising his hands defensively.

Instead of stabbing him she smiled and turned to the corridor. “They're coming.”

“What?”

Her hand wrapped around his arm and she shoved him into the cage. For a moment he thought she meant to lock him inside but a second later he watched her stab the pen into an agent's throat. She pulled free his gun as he dropped to the ground and pointed it at another agent before shooting him in his head. The whole thing happened in the time it took him to blink.

Agents were begining to swarm. Dirk stepped further into the room, flinching as the woman shot two more agents through the head. He’d made a mistake. He shouldn’t have stopped. Maybe if he’d kept going he would have escaped. They probably weren’t watching him as closely as the woman. Why would they? It wasn’t like he was about to kill, what was it, six agents so far.

“You’re running out of bullets,” he whispered.

She turned around to look at him, even though he knew she hadn’t heard. She started to retreat into the room and Dirk wedged himself into the corner furthest away from her.

“They’re going to kill us,” he gasped.

“They couldn’t even if they wanted to. Universe won’t let them.”

He flinched when she stepped towards him, her back turned and the gun pointed at the door. It took him a moment to realise she was trying to shield his body with her own.

“You can't kill them all,” he said, jumping as a bullet bounced off the wall near his head. He heard people shouting and tried to curl further into himself.

“What do you suggest?” She asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

“A tactical surrender?”

She snorted and pressed. “Not going to happen.”

“You can't just kill everyone in the compound.”

She looked over her shoulder at him. “Can't I?”

“No, of course not,” he said, yelping when she fired another bullet very close to his ear. He watched it bounce of off a wall and clip an approaching agents head. The woman crumpled.

“Last bullet,” they said in union. He didn't know how they both knew but they shared a brief look of understanding. They were very much the same, more so than anyone he had ever met before, but at the same time so completely different.

“Oh dear,” Dirk said, ducking his head as watched Friedkin walk into the room. He had armour on and his gun out. He did not look pleased.

“Who are you?” The woman asked, unaffected by Dirk’s dread.

“I'm the one in charge around here, and you and your little friend there have only been here for a few hours and you've already seriously ticked me off.” He aimed his gun at them. Dirk flinched but the woman merely stood her ground. “How did you get out of your room project Icarus?”

“His name is Dirk,” the woman said. She lifted up the pen and pointed it at him. “And I think you dropped this.”


	3. I'll protect you

“He doesn’t look very happy, does he?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “You’re scared of him.”

“He’s a scary person,” Dirk said, peering over her shoulder. “Do you know Him?"

“Nope,” she said with a shrug. “Hey, who are you?” She bellowed.

The ape blinked stupidly. “Step away from project Icarus -”

“Dirk,” the woman interrupted.

The agent took a deep breath. “Step away from Dirk. Put down the gun,” he paused, clearly in thought. “And the pen, and put your hands above your head.”

The woman released a snort of laughter. “No.”

“If you don’t step away from him I will shoot you.”

She shrugged. “Go ahead.” A shot went off. Dirk cried out, covering his head with hands. The woman didn’t move an inch. “Looks like you missed,” she mocked.

“Dirk,” the agent said, addressing him directly for the first time. “Come out here, now.”

“Don’t move,” the woman hissed at him.

“What’s your endgame, huh?” the agent suddenly snapped, throwing out his arms childishly.”One little pen doesn’t make you invincible. You aren’t getting out of this compound.” 

“Dirk stays with me,” the woman hissed, pressing him back against the wall. “Unless of course you want to come and get him?”

Dirk closed his eyes. He was going to die, like immediately. Yup, he was dead. Either that or he was going to lose his kneecaps. 

A few tense seconds ticked by before, rather surprisingly, the ape abruptly smiled and shrugged. “You want him, fine,” he stepped back and pressed his hand against the keypad. Dirk watched with a growing sense of horror as the door slid closed. “You can keep him.”

Dirk released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding and attempted to squeeze past the crazy woman. She turned around the moment he moved and locked her wild gaze on him.

“Oh well done,” Dirk said, a little hysterically. He pointed at the agents, all of whom were staring at him. Except the dead ones of course. Dirk shuddered. “You’ve got yourself a roommate. Care to share why you felt it necessary to nearly kill us both?”

“You need me to protect you,” she said, completely serious. 

He gestured around them. “And your protection consists of imprisoning me in a goldfish bowl does it?”

“You’re safer with me,” she insisted.

Dirk considered her words for a moment, debated calling her a crazy person and decided to shrug instead. “Do you know I don’t even know your name. All this time and you've just been the woman that keep trying to murder me. I suppose that doesn't apply now though, what with the protecting me and all," he realised he was babbling and held out his hand. “I’m Dirk Gently.”

“I know,” she said, staring at his outstretched palm confusedly.

“Right, well yes. Of course, but we haven't actually been introduced,” he pulled back his arm. “So, what's your name?”

“Bart,” said said, shrugging and turning back to the glass. She was quiet for a long moment. “I never wanted to come back here.”

He inwardly debated with himself for half a second before he slipped his hand into hers. She jumped a little but didn't pull away. “Hi Bart.”

“Hi Dirk,” she muttered, looking down at the ground.

“So what now?” He asked, briefly meeting the eyes of the watching guards. He couldn't hear what they were saying but they were clearly in quite a fuss over what had happened. The ape was staring hatefully at Bart.

“We wait I guess,” she said, staring out with him. “How long you been here?”

“A few hours, maybe less.”

She snorted, pulling her hand out of his grasp and turning to the bed. “You act fast.”

“Clearly we were meant to meet again,” Dirk said, following her. She fell down on the bed and made room for him to lie down next to her. He flopped  
onto the thin mattress, suddenly deliriously happy she was there with him. It was a miserable situation, he was heartbroken and pretty terrified, but at least he wasn't alone. “I think I must be the most selfish person in the world,” he admitted.

“Yeah, why’s that?”

“Because I'm glad you're here with me.”

She turned to look at him, a small smile on her lips. “Where are your friends?”

“Back home, hopefully safe. What about the man that was with you?”

“They took him. Told me I could see him later, if I behaved,” she snorted. “They really have no idea.”

Dirk nodded his head slowly. “I don't suppose you know why we’re here?”

“No frigging idea. I thought they were closed down.”

“I don't remember seeing you before.” 

He felt her shrug.”They could never hold me.”

It hadn't been the same for him, but he didn't feel like delving to deeply into the past. “It's so white,” he said miserably. 

“I like your jacket,” she said, still looking at him.

He pulled the cuffs of the jacket over his wrists and wrapped his arm around his waist. “Thank you Bart,” his said, just looking at her wild and yet strangely compelling face. 

“Don't worry,” she said, settling into her side so they were lying facing one another. “I'm going to take care of you Dirk.”

He supposed it made nice change from attempted murder.


	4. Watching

“They’re watching us again,” Dirk said, trying not to fidget as he stared out through their glass prison. He hated it, hated being watched and under constant surveillance. He didn’t usually mind an audience but even he had his limits.

“So watch them back,” Bart muttered, running up to the glass and throwing her arms out wide. The watching guards recoiled, one of them so violently that he fell over. The assassin let out a wild cackle, pressing her face against the glass and pointing at the hapless agent. “You’re next,” she said, loudly and slowly, presumably through the glass so he could read her lips. The agent paled and started backpedaling. Even as he watched another dozen agents took his place.

“Wonderful,” Dirk groused. “Now there are more of them.”

Bart snorted before turning back to him. She raised her hands above her head and stretched lazily. “If it makes you feel better Dirk I’m pretty sure they’re not looking at you.”

She had a point. Everyone of them had their eyes locked on her and each of them looked positively terrified. “Just how dangerous are you?” He asked.

Her lips pulled back into a half smile as she trailed her hand across the glass. “I don’t remember how many people I’ve killed. It’s been an awful lot though.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? He asked, genuinely interested. He sat of the edge of the bed, fell on his back and started kicking the floor with his heels.

She shrugged. “You can’t fight fate. You know that better than anyone.”

“True,” he acknowledged. “Goodness knows I’ve tried. But you didn’t answer the question. Does it bother you?”

“Nope,” she stepped up to him and sat down crossed legged on the bed. “Does it bother you?”

“They’re all meant to die, didn’t you say?”

“Yup."

He realised he was chewing his lip and sat up. “Then I suppose not. At least if I don’t think about it too much.”

She laughed that deep, scratchy laugh on hers and gently punched his arm. “You’re a riot Dirk. A real freaking riot.”

“I’m so glad you think so. Especially given the fact that I’m hardly trying at all,” he sat up, quickly averting his gaze when he realised she was stripping off. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice much higher than he would have liked.

  
“Showering,” she muttered.

“Oh, right. Of course” he spared a quick glance up and realised she was topless. “Bart, you are aware they can all see you?”

“What, they ain’t never seen tits before?”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or die of mortification. “You realise I can see you?”

“You got something against boobs?”

Despite himself he snorted in amusement. “Not generally, no. In fact beyond their ability to feed small infants I don’t really think about them at all,” he looked up and realised she was now completely naked. “Oh my God,” he threw his hands up over his eyes in horror. “Use a bloody towel.”

“Hah,” Burt cackled, turning on her heels and heading into the bathroom. Dirk waited until he was sure his eyes wouldn’t be burned out of their sockets and lowered his hands, happy to no longer be confronted by his new friends nakedness.

He noticed movement out of the corner of his eye and turned glumly back to the glass. He jumped a little when he realised the ape was staring at him. It took him a moment to realise he had his hand was wrapped around the arm of Bart’s friend Ken.

“Oh shit,” he said, standing up and approaching the glass. He has a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. He watched, unsurprised when the door slid open and the ape stepped inside, dragging Ken with him. “Bart?” he called, stepping back.

“You call her out here, I shoot him through the head,” the ape hissed, striding forward. 

“You can’t be in here,” he said, aware of how nervous he sounded. He noticed Ken had a bleeding lip and bruised, puffy eye. He was limping. “She’ll know. She’ll come out," the agent stepped further into the room and Dirk retreated towards the bathroom. “Seriously, she’ll know and she'll come out here and she will kill you. She’s like really, super good at it too. One of the best killy people I’ve ever met. Ask Ken there, he’ll tell you. Right Ken?” Ken didn't say anything, he just allowed himself to be dragged forward. Dirk’s back smacked against a wall and he realised he couldn't retreat any further. “Now stay right there,” he said, using his best authoritative tone. The ape just kept coming. “I mean it,” he was starting to sound shrill. “Back off,”

“Hey Ken,” Bart said from his right. Dirk spun around, relieved she had finished her shower. She was naked again.

“Hey Bart,” Ken said, not quite looking at her.

She turned to the ape. “You're either really brave or really dumb coming in here." She sounded angry.

“I have a proposition for you,” the agent said, seemingly unafraid as shook Ken by the arm. “You give me Dirk, just for a few hours and i’ll give you your friend back.”

“Oh God,” Dirk whispered. He turned back to Bart, who was stating hard at Ken.

“What do you want him for?”

The agent smirked. “I promise to bring him back. What more do you need to know?”

“You going to hurt him?”

“No more than i’ll hurt your friend here if you don't agree to our swap.”

Bart looked over at him and Dirk closed his eyes tightly.

“Sorry Dirk,” she stepped forward and grabbed Ken’s hand, pulling him gently out of the agent's grasp. “I’ll see you later, OK?”

“OK,” Dirk said, aware of how pathetic he sounded. The ape gripped his wrist and pulled him close, his grip bruising as he started to drag him out of the room.

“Hey asshole?” Burt suddenly called. They both stopped to look at her. “You don't bring him back here, you're a dead man.” She reached into her nest of hair and drew out the pen.

There was a flurry of moment. Tight arms wrapped around Dirk’s waist, lifting him off his feet and carrying him out of the room. He had a brief glimpse of the agent Burt threatened to kill lying on the ground with a pen embedded his forehead before he was thrown over a broad shoulder and carried to only the universe knew where.


	5. Dinner time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're enjoying please let me knooooowwwwwww :)

“You don't know what you’re doing,” Riggings said, furious and exhausted. “They can't be contained.”

“Of course they can, if given the proper incentive. In fact some of them were laughably easy to acquire,” Wilson’s deceptively innocent eyes hardened. “You're little pet actually delivered himself directly to us.”

“Was he-” Riggins paused, collecting and bracing himself. “Is he contained?”

“Certainly and with zero casualties too. He is a skittish creature, isn't he?”

“Project Icarus isn't your main concern. The others-”

“Have been detained or they've been disposed of. Really lieutenant, I think you've been overestimating their abilities.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. These people have abilities you can only imagine and every single one of them has a reason to hate and fear this base. They will fight with every ounce of their beings to escape and I promise you, some of them are unstoppable.”

“You refer of course to project Juggernaut? Except she has been contained and is actually fairly easy to manipulate, given the proper tools. She seems to have taken quite the shine to your pet.”

Riggins felt like he's been punched in the gut. “They’re interacting?”

A fleeting look of interest passed over her deceptively sweet face. “They seem quite compatible in many ways. I wonder if given enough time together they might form a relationship of some sort.”

“Dirk is gay,” Riggins said flatly.

“That isn't in any bio reports,” she said accusingly.

“He was still very young when he escaped. Too young to make an official assessment.”

“You've been watching for years since.”

“And was told to only report back on activity directly related to his abilities. His sexual preference has nothing to do with his psychic capabilities.”

She pursed her lips, clearly considering his words thoughtfully. “Well I suppose at least now we know,” she said, steeling her fingers together. “And really, it makes very little difference. The two are connected, even if it isn’t sexual.” 

“She's a monster and Dirk,” he fell into a seat and took a steadying breath. “He won't hurt anyone, ever, not in self defence, not in anger. Abuse him and he’ll run. Take away his ability to run and -”

“She seems more intent in protecting him, if it makes you feel better,” her expression turned sly. “I'm told he's been asking for you.”

The words shook him to the core. “I want to see him.”

“An impossibility, for now at least. Project Icarus needs to know that things have changed. There aren't any favourites here, not anymore.”

“I treated Dirk differently because he is different. He’s a sweet, gentle man. He’s only interested in helping people. You don’t need to hurt him to force him to do what you want -”

“lieutenant, I’m not having this conversation with you again. You will not be allowed contact with project Icarus and he in turn will not be offered special treatment due to any emotional ties you and e may share. Now, what can you tell me about Todd Brotzman?”

************

“Put me down,” Dirk demanded, wriggling furiously. The ape ignored him, striding easily forward as if he wasn't holding a completely grown human male on his shoulder. What was worse was the group of people they passed barely spared him a glance. Dirk wanted to ask for their help but he knew it was useless. No one was going to help him. “I can walk,” he said furiously

They stopped abruptly. The ape hunched forward and Dirk slid to his feet. He tried to step back but Friedkin grabbed his shirt and dragged him close. The other man wasn’t really all that much taller than Dirk, but was much broader through the shoulders and back. He very clearly had the upper hand physically and seemed more than aware of the fact. 

They stared at one another for a long moment before Friedkin grinned and keyed a number into a combination lock. Dirk watched him suspiciously as a bad feeling settled in his stomach. He tried to plant his feet when the door slid open and the ape pushed him inside. Dirk turned back to the other man, a plea on his lips when the door slid closed and he realised he was trapped.

He heard whistling behind him and immediately twisted around, his back pressed against the wall as the bad feeling in his stomach began to make sense. “No, not you,” he said, trying to edge away as Martin from the Rowdy three stepped towards him. “Stay back!”

“Hello little psychic,” Martin said, stepping unwanted into Dirk's space. His arms spread out on either side of the detective, effectively cadging him between his body and the wall. His nose pressed into the junction between Dirk’s shoulder and neck. “I've been feeling you for days. Your panic, your fear,” he inhaled deeply. “It’s intoxicating.”

“No,” Dirk whispered, wanting for than anything to be back in Todd’s apartment. Back where it was safe, where people weren’t trying to hurt him. “Stay away from me.”

“But I don’t want to,” Martin whispered, pressing closer to him. “They’ve kept me in here, alone, for days. I’m starving.”

Dirk hated it when the Rowdy three fed on him. It didn’t hurt necessarily but it was disconcerting and draining. He was already exhausted and injured. He didn’t have the energy to spare. He tried to push past the other man but he was so much bigger than him that he barely moved. Dirk shrank into himself as he felt the familiar telltale feeling of being fed on. He scrunched his eyes closed and tried to make himself relax. He knew from experience that fighting them only made it worse.

“Whoa,” Martin breathed out with a laugh, slipping his arms around Dirk’s waist and shoulders as his legs suddenly gave out beneath him. “I got you, I got you.”

“Let go of me,” Dirk whispered, struggling briefly as he was picked up bridal style and placed on the small thin mattress in the centre of the room.

Martin stepped away almost immediately, retreating until his back was pressed against the wall of the cell. He was practically lounging. “When did they pick you up?” he asked conversationally, as if he wasn’t just trying to suck the life out of Dirk.

Dirk stared at him incredulously for a moment before carefully sitting up. “Wow this is new. Normally you and your gang of parasites attack me and then bugger off. What is it you call me, dinner, lunch? I’m not even a person to you, am I? I’m just a bloody tasty meal ticket that you stalk and terrorise. But here we are, stuck together and you’ve got no place to go.”

“Neither do you,” Martin reminded him, stepping forward with a frightening look on his face. “So maybe you be real careful how you to speak to the big bad parasite, little man.”

Dirk thought about telling the other man to fuck off before internally shurgging away his anger. “I ran into them.”

“What?”

“You asked me how they caught me. Well I walked into them. Or really, I walked up to Friedkin. He threw me in a van, which got hit by a deer and then they put me in an SUV and, well, here we are,” he gestured all around them.

“What about you?” Realisation struck. “Oh my god, is Amanda OK?”

“Drummer girl’s fine, for now. Vogel led her away before they cornered us,” he stepped closer, almost subconsciously, or so it seemed to Dirk. “Have you seen the others?”

“No,” Dirk said, debating if he should get up and try and put some more space between them. “Can’t you, you know, feel them?”

“You see them, you tell them I’m OK. That I’m coming for them

The door suddenly slid open and Friedkin stepped inside, accompanied by three other agents. They had weapons drawn but Dirk didn’t recognise exactly what they were. Probably non-lethal, though he’d bet his tie collection that being hit by one would hurt like hell.

Martin was leaning against the wall of the cell, looking at them with a serious air of disinterest.

“Dirk,” Friedkin said softly. “Come here.”

He debated telling the ape to piss off but he didn’t really want to find out what the weapons did. He got unsteadily to his feet and walked to agents side. His wrist was grabbed and the agents retreated, dragging Dirk with them. They moved about ten feet down the corridor before Friedkin opened another door and pushed Dirk inside.

He already had a pretty good idea who was going to be waiting for him so when he looked up and saw Cross he just sank to his arse and put his face in the crook of his arm.


	6. Comforting

Ken pressed his hand over his ears and tried not to throw his shoe at Bart as the infuriating woman kicked and screamed at the glass door. It had been going on for at least ten minute and it was setting his teeth on edge.

“You’re going to break your foot,” he said softly. She didn’t hear him. That or she was ignoring him. “Bart, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

She spun round to face him, her eyes wild and terrifying. “Why haven’t they brought him back yet? What are they doing to him?”

“He’ll be back soon. Just, try to calm down ok?”

She started pacing, moving up and down the length of the small room, her hands curled into fists. “I’m supposed to protect him. He’s supposed to stay with me. But, but I couldn’t let them keep you. You’re not one of us. You’re disposable.” 

“Gee, thanks,” he muttered, but despite himself he couldn’t help but smile a little. She had gone against her instincts to help him. For someone like Bart that meant the world. “Hey, hey look. Here they come.”

She turned away from him slowly, facing the door with her hands held loosely at her side. He could tell she wanted a weapon, that every instinct she possessed demanded she attack. Despite himself he took a small step back.

“Project Juggernaut,” a soft female voice came through hidden speakers in the ceiling. “Step towards the wall and raise both of your hands above your head. Comply now, otherwise Project Icarus will be returned to his own room and you will be restricted from any further interaction.”

She grunted, spinning in circles and muttering darkly before facing the glass and slowly retreating against the wall. She raised her hands and shook them. “Happy now?” She yelled.

The door slid open and the detective was shoved inside with an unnecessarily hard shove. He staggered a few steps before his legs gave out and he collapsed, hitting the floor with a sharp cry before lying still. 

Ken shot across the room and bent down to help the other man to his feet. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen Dirk but it was the first time he personally interacted with him, if you could call carrying a half unconscious british dude across the room much of an interaction. 

He was struggling weakly in Ken’s grip, trying to break free even as he pressed more of is weight on him in order to stay upright.

“What’s wrong with him?” Bart asked, hovering. “Is he hurt?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to get him on the bed and then we’re going to check,” he lay the other man down gently and started patting down his body. “Hey buddy, can you hear me? Does anything hurt?”

“Leave me alone,” Dirk mumbled miserably, twisting away from him. 

“Dirk, I know you want to be left alone right now but I need you to tell if you’re hurt?”

“No,” came the miserable response. He haunched further into himself with a heart wrenching whimper. “I’m fine. Please, go away.”

Ken ignored him, pressing down gently on his chest, arms and legs. Other than unhappy grumbling the other man didn’t look like he was in pain.

“Is he OK?” 

“Yeah, I think so,” Ken ran his fingers up and down Dirk’s arm, trying for comforting even though he suspected he was coming across a bit creepy. “Let’s just give him a moment to calm down, OK?”

Except Bart didn’t want to wait. She pushed Ken aside and grabbed Dirk’s hair, pulling his head back. “Are you alright?” She shouted.

“Ouch,” Dirk said, his voice high and irritable. “Yes, I’m alright, damn it. Get off.”

Instead of getting angry she plopped down next to Dirk on the bed before turning around so that they were facing one another, there foreheads almost touching. “Hey Dirk,” she said, gently, for her at least.

Ken tried to push away the oddly tight feeling in his chest. 

“The rowdy three,” he said miserably, as if that explained everything.

“Who?” Bart asked, running her fingers through his hair and yup, Ken was definitely jealous. 

“The Rowdy three. They’re sort of like vampires.”

“Oh,” Bart said, as if it was normal.

“Come again?” Ken asked, stepping closer.

Dirk sat up. He looked less pale and no longer on the verge of collapse. “You know, vampires. Suck the blood out of you to sustain themselves. Only it isn’t blood they’re after. It’s something...else.”

“Never heard of em,” Bart said, sitting up with him. “How to do you know em?”

“They stalk me,” Dirk said, running his fingers through his hair. “Have been for years now. Apparently I’m tasty,” he looked thoughtfully at Bart. “I would have thought they’d find you just as appealing. I’m surprised you’ve never ran into them.”

“Universe must not want them dead.”

Dirk blinked at her. “But, I mean you don’t kill everyone you run into, obviously.”

“Usually, if we interact at least.”

“Oh,” Dirk turned to Ken with wide eyes. “Do you intend to kill us?”

She followed his gaze, looking thoughtful. “I hope not.”

“Well that’s...comforting,” Dirk said, eyes widening further. He seemed to take in Ken for the first time and a huge smile spread over his face. “Oh, I remember you. You were there before, when I was shot. Hi, my name’s Dirk,” he held out his hand, which Ken noted was shaking slightly. 

“Hey,” Ken said, taking his hand and trying to smile back. It felt more like a grimace. “Are you sure you’re OK?”

“What? Oh yes, yes of course,” he sat back down with a small huff. “What about you? You look a little bruised?”

Ken touched his face, cringing slightly when he pressed too hard against his tender cheek. “I’m OK. They just pushed me around.”

“Yes, they’re good at that,” Dirk said, looking out towards the glass. He paled almost instantly and started backpedaling.


End file.
